procrastination

Mardou called just before midnight to tell me about her new job and the government plates and the package that arrived for her today. i wrote on it: "open in case of birthday." but this is an ancilla to the point.

the point is that i'm blogging because i don't want to write about last night. i'm sick of writing uncomfortable yesterdays; i remember being sick of them in March, and May, and July, and August, and here i am again.

the pain isn't in the sadness, the pain is in not letting go.

i know this because there was a time when there was pain in writing of Mardou, but those days are long gone and last night her call was an oasis. i told her about [her] and the experiment and how it's not going as planned.

i woke this morning a little closer to letting go.